


Tu Fui, Ego Eris

by replicates



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Captivity, Definitely a "Ren why are you in Strade's clothes?!" ending though, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Murder Couple?, Murder Family, Reader-Insert, Stockholm Syndrome, Unspecified Route Ending, actual torture, gender neutral reader, spoilers for BTD 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/replicates/pseuds/replicates
Summary: The first time Ren brings someone down to the basement, you hide.(So Gato said that what Ren does for money after Strade is "hinted at in the bonus content". Well, then!)





	1. Acta es Fabula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can't see it, can't hear it, is it actually happening?

The first time Ren brings someone down to the basement, you hide.

You had hoped, in vain, that at least this remnant of his captor he would have been left without. You’ve seen more of the videos now, come to understand far better what sort of person it was that Ren had been ‘owned’ by for two years. It feels, sometimes, like you almost knew the man yourself.

He’s there when Ren’s eyes and smile shine with a cruelty that seems to out of place on his boyish, soft face. You see it in the way he moves, confident and like he owns the world, when you’ve messed up and need a ‘lesson’ (despite how desperately you tell him no, you don’t, please, _you understand_ ). This man, Strade, had crawled his way inside of Ren and never left, even when he was dead. Sometimes in your more frenzied moments, pain-crazed and terrified, you can almost see him there. Like an image overlaid on another, shifted slightly to the side. Different and yet the same.

You see it that first time, as Ren drags her in, just cheerful as he is when he brings the groceries in. It’s a woman who looks no older than either of you, pretty and dressed up like she’d just wanted to have a fun night with her girlfriends. She's clearly out cold, and you have to wonder if he used the same thing on her that he used on you, even when it was meant for someone else. How did he even find her?

You should think of her as more than a body, acknowledge the life beating through her that’s soon to be snuffed out like a candle under a leak. You’re the last one who will ever see her, and you should at least honor her with _some_ sympathy and regret. And you do, you feel sorry for her. She doesn't deserve something like this, no matter what she might have done. But still, that insidious voice in the back of your mind whispers thanks that isn't _you_. That it's not your flesh waiting to be carved by the hand-me-down knife Ren seems to only want to see when he's using it on someone else. That it's not a 'lesson', cruelly taught while Ren smiles, a twisted mockery of a gentle, teaching lover.

Ren's 'lessons' are never pleasant, but he always ensures that they stuck the way he wants them to; the knife is good assistance with that. Sometimes the nail-gun too. They're his favorites in a fucked up toy chest of options. You try not to let on how much more the nail-gun terrifies you, because you know he'd use it more. The knife is at least controlled in every way. It's too easy to get carried away with a nail gun, too easy to set it off without meaning to. He hasn't yet, thank whatever in the universe is protecting you from that even when it isn't protecting you from Ren himself.

No, you aren't the focus tonight. This innocent woman is and trying to argue for her survival, even knowing it would fail, feels like the very least you could do. You  _know_ what he will do, and it's your duty as a decent human being to try and save her, isn't it? Isn't that how it goes in stories, the everyday person sacrifices themselves for a stranger they've never met because that's the good side of human nature?

But then Ren spots you and grins that fanged smile that’s a little too sharp. It should be cute; it  _would_ be if you hadn't seen it so many times while staring at the business end of a knife. Seen it while he killed Lawrence for you because you _just couldn't stomach it_. He looks like someone who's just let their friend in on an interesting secret, something for the two of you only. You might have thought it endearing, had you known him outside of this. You would have wanted to give him anything he wanted just because he smiled at you that way.

Now it's just terrifying.

There's a moment of hesitation, the air almost thick with your uncertainty. You're in the hallway, just out of reach of the warning range of your collar. You know by now you can't rush past him, but you could leave. Go back down the hallway before he can say anything and locked yourself in your room. He might be angered, it might be you on that pole later, but you wouldn't have to be staring at a broken boy holding a girl who may as well be dead already (and she _is_ a girl, old enough to be called a woman, but in the grand scheme of life she is so, so young). You could rush him maybe, try to wake the woman and give her the chance to run out the door. Offer yourself, offer  _something_ to stop what is an inevitability that part of you is screaming not to accept.

But you don't.

You knew this was coming someday. It's like that word you'd learned what felt like years ago now, _transference_.  He rejects his own pain and inflicts it on others now. Ren is twisted into the image of his once-captor; a testament to the trauma he has endured and been shaped by. No amount of pleading or promises would spare this woman tonight.

And you love him and fear him far more than you pity her.

The smile you return is weak and wavering, but Ren doesn't seem to mind. He pads closer to you, and you manage to mumble a poor excuse about going to bed, even though it's not even eight yet. He doesn't call you out on it, doesn't push the fragile boundaries you've put up, not yet. He instead he nuzzles at your neck affectionately, like a cat scenting a beloved object and bids you goodnight. He'll be late coming to bed, so he'll be quiet when he does.

He still doesn't call you out when you practically run from him to reach your room. You hear the basement door thud shut just as you're sliding onto the bed, covers pulled up over your head like a child hiding from the boogie man. Because that's what you're doing. Hiding away, shutting out the reality of what you know is going on right below you. If you can't see it, can't hear it, is it actually happening?

When Ren slips into bed and pulls you close hours later, you can almost pretend you don't smell the blood either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tu Fui, Ego Eris_ , the story title, means "What you are, I was. What I am, you will be." or "I was you, You will be me."
> 
> _Acta es Fabula_ , the chapter title, roughly means "The play has ended." or "The drama has been acted out."
> 
> They're old Latin phrases, and I first encountered them as ending names to one of my favorite games, Haunting Ground. c: It's likely all the chapters will be titled this way! The first I feel is super relevant to Ren's route overall given the role reversal he ends up in with regard to Strade, and the second is pretty fitting given that essentially this whole peaceful-but-not-really, non-murdery illusion MC has been living in has come to an end.


	2. Ignis Aurum Probat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was always going to happen.
> 
> (or, alternatively, if I don't write Ren using two hostages to cockfight, who will?)

The next time, Ren doesn’t let you hide.

You’re in the kitchen, doing dishes and steadfastly pretending like you hadn’t seen him dragging someone recklessly down the stairs. It had been noisy, the man bound but awake by the time Ren had gotten his hands on him. He's bound to be covered in bruises later, if he lives long enough for them to form. You'd gone unnoticed, and if luck was with you, might stay that way. But it’s an illusion you know Ren won’t let you keep, even if he somehow does forget you tonight. He’s been talking lately, streams of consciousness about the different tools in the basement he’s never tried. He doesn’t need to mention involving you, not when you can hear the unspoken “And you’ll be there helping,” in his words.

He’s still as quiet as the day you woke up in this house. When Ren calls your name from the doorway of the basement door, you drop the dinner plate you’re cleaning.

Well. No way to pretend you couldn’t hear him now.

So, you go to the door, line of sight fixed firmly on your own feet. Pretending you can’t hear the sobbing man below. Ren hasn’t really started yet, not if he can still cry so clearly.

“C’mon, I think it’s time we had some fun together again.” Ren smiles, reaching for your hand to pull you forward.

You could fight, it occurs to you. One strong shove and he’d be tumbling down the stairs. You’d be on top of him in seconds. He’s so small, it wouldn’t take much to hold him down and strangle the life out of him.

But Ren loves you and you love Ren and…what else do you have now?

He leads you down carefully, hand in yours like you’ll tumble if he doesn’t hold on. You’re shaking, so it’s certainly not an impossibility. Ren is a figure of contradictions in that way; he leads you down the stairs with gentle hands that he likes to run through your hair and then use to scratch you open until you’re bloodied and crying. It's dizzying, a tightrope walk on your toes, never sure if the next hours will be sweetness or pain. You know what he's doing, or you think that you might. 'Stockholm syndrome' and 'gas-lighting' are terms you'd looked up before, and what else could describe how he makes you crave the sweetness so much you can almost think the pain isn't so bad?

Ren has the strange ability to make things you know are logical sound like overreactions, like you're just being silly. Like your fear when you woke up to find yourself chained was nothing, like being unable to kill Lawrence yourself was not an act of morality, but an act of weakness. You feel crazy, sometimes. As if you're lost in a parallel world with totally different rules, and you're the one being ridiculous for not wanting to murder someone in cold blood.

The poor lead in this fucked up show (not literally this time, there's no camera in sight) sits tied to the pole in front of the freezer, stripped to nothing more than boxers and looking for all the world like if he cries hard enough he thinks the bonds might release on their own. But Ren doesn’t take the chances Strade did. There are no ropes to be loosened here, only unforgiving zip ties. No amount of squirming the pole allowed would break those.

You knew from experience.

You reach the bottom of the stairs and Ren drops your hand, moving it to your back instead. Reassuring, but also making sure you can’t turn and run back up. No, this was cemented in stone as soon as you’d seen him with that girl the first time. Maybe even the moment he brought you through the door. This was always going to happen.

“You couldn’t finish off Lawrence when you first got here, and that was okay.” He’s smiling at you, ears perked and grin wide. “I wanted to let you adjust. But it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He’s not really expecting an answer and you don’t give him one. Instead you let him nudge you away from the bottom step and closer inside the actual basement. The man tied to the pole had already noticed you, and you can almost see the question behind his eyes—another tormentor, or someone who might be able to save him? But then he seems to realize the way Ren is holding you, one hand gentle on your back, with a sharp but affectionate smile directed at you and you alone. "So I brought you a gift to help you get started. We'll take it slow."

Ren either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about the way the man suddenly sags, as if he’d built up so much hope in just the few seconds since you appeared.

No, his eyes are still trained on you. Watching, observing.

“Ren, I--" How can you refuse? How can you turn and walk away without being more damaged yourself, because Ren despises disobedience from you? "Please, I don't want--"

You can't even finish the sentence, not when his face goes completely blank.

And you know you've fucked up.

There's no time for any thought beyond that before the electricity hits you, bringing you right to your knees as Ren stares coldly down at you. It's not as high a voltage as it could be, but it still hurts, feels like it's never going to end. He's just staring, one finger casually pressing the button without so much as a twitch to indicate he's considering stopping. It goes on and on and on, it feels like. You think you might be trying to plead with him, begging him to stop, but nothing is making it out of your mouth but pained croaks.

It doesn't stop until you're unable to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing onto your side. The cessation of the pain is the most beautiful thing you've ever felt.

You lay panting on the floor, trying to catch your breath to let platitudes and apologies spill out your mouth like tears are spilling from your eyes. But Ren is speaking before you can. 

"I gave you time. I eased you into it as much as I could! I spent so much time finding the right person for you and you--!" The snarl on his face is completely animal, his tailed fluffed up angrily. He hates being denied, hates what he perceives to be ungratefulness and therefore a denial of your love. And you've just done it in the worst way possible, short of making an escape attempt. He's offering a gift, more depth to your twisted 'bond' and you've refused it like an unwanted Christmas present. 

 _You have fucked up so bad_. 

 "Fine." Ren spots the word out like it's a bad taste. He gestures to the cabinets, not far away, but enough to get some space between you. "Fine. Get over there. We're doing something else."

You scramble back, practically slamming yourself into the cabinets. Anything for some distance from whatever is about to happen.

What happens is Ren walking over to the shocked, tear-faced man and pulling out his knife to saw through the zip ties. It's only your fear that keeps you from choking out a demand to know what he's doing. But he has the knife pressed to the man's throat next, a warning against moving, so he must feel he has it under control no matter what. He drags the man to his feet, and it'd look ridiculous given the size difference if it wasn't such a serious situation. The next second the man is shoved violently towards you, tripping over his own bleeding feet and collapsing at yours.

"What...what are you doing? Ren?" Your voice comes out a hoarse whisper as your eyes flit between the man before you and the one who holds your life in his hands.

The grin he gives is dripping with something sinister.

"I'm showing you why caring about their lives is stupid."

Then he's digging in the nearby drawers for something, soon emerging with a second knife. He drops both of them in between you and his latest victim.

"The rules are simple." He squats down, as casually as if he's explaining a game to a child. "I'm going to give you a chance to get out of here. Whoever kills the other gets to leave this basement."

Horror and dread sink into your stomach, ice cold. There's a second of absolutely no movement outside of the man's eyes meeting yours.

The feeling of a knife skimming your shoulder almost doesn't register. The man has lurched forward on his knees, knife held in both hands and staring at you, wild-eyed. He's unsteady, and it only takes a few more seconds before pure adrenaline kicks in, heart pounding in your ears.

"Wow!" Ren says from somewhere near you as you kick the man away from you with as much force as you can. He's unbalanced from his lunge, and it isn't difficult at all. "He just went right for it, huh?"

You push yourself up the cabinets, gripping the counter top. Your heart feels like it's going to beat straight out of your chest. Ren leans against the wall near the stairs with deceptive casualty. Watching you and his victim, who stumbles to his feet, knife gripped in white knuckles. There's no hesitation in his eyes, only desperation. And Ren is just going to stand by and watch as he tries to kill you.

You sure as hell don't know how to fight with a knife; neither does your opponent given how he can't seem to decide between stances he's seen in action movies and ones he wants to do naturally.

"Ren, please, this is--" Except the man is lunging again. It's only distance and adrenaline that lets you stumble out of the way.

Okay. Okay, real life definitely isn't like the movies, there's no time for talking. You need to get the remaining knife before the man takes that too. And then what?

Are you really going to do this? Going to kill someone in cold blood to save yourself?

Desperately, you dive at it. A bad move, because as soon as you hit the ground, the man is on top of you.

There's hands around your throat (where did his knife go?), almost completely cutting off your air. It takes a second to realize the horrible, desperate wheezing sounds you hear are coming from _you_. He's not putting enough of his weight into it, not enough force in his hold, frantic as he is, and you're getting just enough air to not pass out immediately. He's seen too many examples of it done on TV to know how to do it right.

In a panic, you begin to try pulling at his wrists, as if it could actually get him off of you. His hands don't so much as budge and you turn frantic eyes around the room. There'd had to be _something_ you could. Despairing, hands slamming on the ground trying to scrabble for anything, your eyes roll to Ren's direction. He's looking more serious now, not gleeful like he had before. Almost concerned. His hands hovers above his pocket where you know he keeps his own knife.

Then, mouth pressed into a thin line, he gestures to where your panicked searching has apparently missed.

The knife.

It's pure luck you don't grab the blade instead of the handle. There's no hesitation now, pure survival instinct as you jam it straight through the side of his neck. Thoughtlessly, frantically, you saw at it. Blood spills out in waves as you saw through muscle and sinew; not even stopping when the hands on your neck loosen completely, when his eyes are completely dead. When you finally stop, there's a gaping hole, and it almost looks like his head wants to detach. There's blood all over you, on your face and in your hair, like you've been hit with a bucket of red paint.

Ren pulls the now-corpse off of you as you continue to desperately gulp in air. His smile is smug and satisfied, like he's gotten exactly what he wanted.

"Do you understand now?" He asks gently, crouching down to run his hands over the marks on your neck, still clean from where the man's hands had been. "I wasn't really going to let him kill you. But you needed to learn." You can't manage to look him in the eyes, focused on the ceiling instead. His hands move from your throat to your hair, gently brushing through the bloodstained strands. This is how it always is with 'lessons'. You should have considered that. A little hard, though, when your life is literally at stake.

Your eyes slip shut as he continues talking. "It's stupid to care about their lives, because they won't care about yours. They'll do the exact same thing, even if you're trying to help them. We're here -- you're here now -- because we were strong enough to live. If you want to keep leaving, you can't be the weaker one. You have to be willing to kill them or die."

You wonder what he was like before this, before survival of the fittest was beaten into his head. Before the scars littering his body and the manic gleam in his eye. Before the body in the freezer only feet from you.

Would he have been saying this then?

 

...Will you be saying it later?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ignis Aurum Probat_ means "[The] Fire tests [the] Gold". Once again, in Latin. It was used to indicate that someone was being "refined/tested by adversity" or, put another way using the rest of the saying, "strong men are tempered by suffering".
> 
> The fight scene was _supposed_ to be longer but I've never written one and then when I was researching knife fighting it turned out they actually end super freaking quick, despite what the movies will show you and especially when it's two people who have no experience with it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
> 
> I also just really liked the mental image of Ren sitting by with a shit-eating grin as MC sawed out the throat of someone choking them out. :3c 
> 
> My brother refused to help me test if you could strangle someone while still allowing a little air by accident because he's a normal, sane person, so. Just go with it.


End file.
